


Tabled Discussions

by AvrielleRogue



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age - Various Authors, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Clothed Sex, Exhibitionism, F/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Public Display of Affection, Public Hand Jobs, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, War Table (Dragon Age), War Table (Dragon Age) Sex, War Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27098824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvrielleRogue/pseuds/AvrielleRogue
Summary: After so many weeks apart, Cullen and Evelyn Trevelyan are excited to finally have a moment alone... if the war table meeting will ever end. Cullen, it seems, doesn't want to wait a moment longer.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan, Female Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford, Inquisitor/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 11
Kudos: 59





	Tabled Discussions

Evelyn hadn’t wanted to be rude. Josie always got like this before Important Guests visited Skyhold, and tomorrow’s arrival of several dozen was no exception. With any luck, a successful gathering would mean more funding, more supplies, and possibly more soldiers for their growing number of Inquisition occupations across Thedas. 

But as Evelyn and her three advisors neared the end of hour three of preparations at the war table, light irritation was beginning to quirk the edges of Evelyn’s lips. 

Rolling her head around her shoulders, she regretted scheduling her return that morning after a tiring stint in the Western Approach so close to her next engagement. 

After a luxurious bath, she’d strode around the fortress under the guise of checking in on things. Stables were spotless. Ramparts were being repaired. And -- the true reason for her wanderings -- Cullen was found exactly where she’d expected: barking orders at the newest crop of soldier recruits. She cocked her head as she watched them train. Though they still lacked the precise discipline demanded by their military leader, they looked as promising as any who successfully lasted the month. The repetition, along with the guise of Cullen’s disdain, was necessary to keep up the standards the Inquisition required of its soldiers. It’s also what kept them alive.

A stone buttress provided Evelyn sufficient cover to watch as Cullen’s lip curled in frustration. The nervous soldiers became more sloppy as they overcompensated to fall in line, and their Commander had to turn away and walk a few paces to compose himself before spinning around angrily and assigning them extra line drills for their blunders.

She knew better than to alert Cullen to her presence. Although seeing her would surely lift his spirits, the chaste and formal welcome they’d both have to put on in front of the upstart onlookers would have been disappointing for them both. 

Though it had been a short absence, comparatively speaking, this recent return was one of a string of missions between which they hadn’t been able to align their schedules to allow for some alone time. 

When Evelyn appeared in his doorway some hours later, Cullen had risen from his desk without a word. The tension that creased his forehead seemed to dissipate with every step as he closed the distance between them and captured her mouth in his, pressing her hard against the doorframe. The soldiers posted outside had coughed into their fists and suddenly agreed simultaneously to move their post several meters down the battlement.

His rich, earthy scent -- cloves mingled with a few hours’ honest sweating -- the stubble of his beard, the tenderness with which he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear -- everything about him threatened to entangle them both into a sexual engagement that would surely make them late for their advisors’ meeting. With great restraint, they pulled themselves apart with a whispered promise to meet in Evelyn’s quarters just as soon as their War Table talks had ceased. 

A foolish promise, it turned out, as it was now seeming that they might _never_ cease.

Somewhere in hour one, Leliana had requested a soldier fetch the four of them chairs to sit in -- a request that drew a poorly concealed sneer from Josephine once they were finally dragged in. After all, they were quite a different color from the tawny oak war table itself.

But that was hours and dozens of decisions ago. Cullen didn’t bother stifling a yawn from where he sat next to Evelyn. Once Josie’s eyes averted down to her notes on the opposite side of the table, Evelyn shot him a raised-eyebrow glance, eyes blinking in question. _Really? Yawning during a war table meeting?_

He smiled chastely at her and began to tug at the leather fingertips on his gloves as Josie continued. Leliana flipped through missives across from them, scratching notes in the margins. Either that or she was spiraling lazy designs in them as they slowly eased into hour four; it wasn’t clear.

Cullen’s removed gauntlets hit the table in front of them with a soft clank. Both Josie and Leliana looked up from their parchments.

“The gloves come off,” Josie snorted. “Am I to be challenged to a duel over dinner options?”

“Skipping right to dinner so soon?” Cullen asked with a tired smile. “I was certain we’d draw out talks of our various appetiser options for the next quarter hour at least.”

Leliana barked a small laugh that she would have sworn to Andraste was just clearing her throat. 

Evelyn turned her head, shooting Cullen a look of warning not to start any bickering that might elongate their discussions -- a look he clearly anticipated.

“I’m only joking, Josie,” he grinned. “Please continue.”

“Thank you,” she said, and dove into the various hidden messages one might send via different species of grouse on the menu.

When she felt Cullen’s hand on her thigh, Evelyn straightened up ever so slightly but didn’t turn to look at him. A tight squeeze seemed to reward her for her discretion, and suddenly all regrets about the meeting running long fell out of her mind.

Ever since their interrupted kiss that day on the ramparts, the thought of being caught had filled Evelyn with a naughty thrill. Cullen had used this to his wicked advantage, slowly raising the stakes. A stolen kiss at the Herald’s Rest -- back when they were still attempting to keep their relationship under wraps. A quick roll in the hay of the stables while Blackwell was off on Warden business. Sensuous lovemaking on Cullen’s desk while the doors remained unlocked. But in her heart, Evelyn knew it was too late for anyone to come knocking, so their chances of being discovered were practically nonexistent. Plus, the soldier who’d interrupted that kiss was quite the gossip. No one visited either of their quarters after sundown once their relationship was public knowledge. 

But this was something entirely different.

As Josephine spoke, Cullen’s hand crept up Evelyn’s thigh, fingers marching in a determined stride that threatened to elicit a giggle if she wasn’t careful. She rent her mouth into an expression of thoughtful active listening, nearly exhaling in an audible sigh when his fingers met her center. 

She gambled a stolen glance at Cullen. His eyebrows raised and his head dipped ever so subtly. Asking permission. With a gulp, Evelyn nodded slowly. Neither advisor across the table looked up. 

Evelyn shifted in her seat, spreading her legs for Cullen to more easily gain access. He dutifully began circling her swelling bundle of nerves with the flat pads of two determined fingers. Her pearl snapped this way and that as he applied torturous pressure through her tan breeches. Arousal pooled in her belly, and she shuddered to keep her breathing even. In just a few moments, her smalls were becoming soaked through, and soon Cullen would feel what his actions had done to her. 

He began stroking the length of her slit, beckoning arousal out of her. His fingers traced along the line he loved to draw with his cock, held tightly in hand before dipping roughly between her folds. She could tell when moisture finally soaked through to his eager fingers, because he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. 

Evelyn knew the seat-shift well. On days when their lovemaking wasn’t so urgent and carnal, when they had time to truly draw out their ecstasy, Cullen loved to sit in the overstuffed chair in the corner of Evelyn’s room as she slowly stripped her clothes off after a long day. At first, she’d shyly scoffed at his request to watch her disrobe, insisting that after a day’s training in the yard, she needed to run a quick bath. Cullen’s voice had dropped to a lower register that sent blood rushing warmly to her groin, as he made a very convincing argument for bathing together afterwards.

On those days, as she peeled her armor off slowly, bending low to remove the greaves from her shins, ass quirking in the air, Cullen had always done that same seat-shift to make room in his rapidly tightening trousers.

Evelyn’s thoughts swam through her fuzzing, arousal-addled mind, crashing against the edges of too many wants and worries all at once. Wanting to see what Cullen would try next. _Needing_ to continue this naughty game. Worry about driving Leliana and Josephine from the room if an embarrassing moan tore from her throat. Desiring all that and more. Aching at each moment that passed that Cullen wasn’t filling her up, stuffed inside her to the hilt. 

A nearly inaudible growl reverberated in Cullen’s throat and rippled a pang of desire low in Evelyn’s stomach. She knew what he was asking of her and hoped he would anticipate his role in her next move. 

“Hmm, Josie,” she hummed, so nonchalant, the Antivan barely peered over her parchment. Evelyn lifted ever so slightly off the wooden chair and leaned forward to grab a map marker and slid it far, to the southernmost area on their side of the table. “Did you mention some of the guests were from the Free Marches?”

Cullen read her movement exactly as she intended it. While her ass was off her seat, he turned his head in the opposite direction, as if deep in thought, all while deftly crooking his fingers into the waistband of Evelyn’s thin breeches and smallclothes, jerking downward. Cool air hit her backside. While Josephine shuffled through her notes and Leliana doodled, Evelyn sat back and inhaled a deep breath, slowly walking her breeches further and further down her legs. 

She hadn’t thought this through, however. Her plan was to shuck her breeches and smalls just enough to allow Cullen access to her dripping sex. That way, even if someone caught on to what they were doing, Evelyn could at least retain her modesty, hiding herself under her flowing tan tunic. 

But her breeches’ constricting placement on her thighs kept her knees snapped together so tight, Cullen wouldn’t be able to circle her pearl so torturously. She’d need to get her clothes completely past her knees in order to spread her legs wide enough to allow him access.

The slow shimmy to get the pants off was torture. She could all but hear the smirk on Cullen’s face as she went, furrowing her brow in a mask of interest over her advisor’s words. 

When the tight fabric finally passed her knees, she leaned back, arching her back in a stretch just as she did on her throne after a long day of passing judgment. The hot, rough pads of Cullen’s thick fingers eagerly found their mark again, and she snapped back from her stretch, possibly too jerkily. Cullen chuckled darkly into his other fist.

He wasted little time circling her slick clit before delving as deep between her folds as his upright position would allow.

Trembling to keep her panting quiet, Evelyn stole a glance at Cullen. His disaffected gaze looked straight ahead, chaste and innocent as if he were receiving the morning news. When his fingers delved deep enough to rub insistent friction along Evelyn’s walls, she clenched tightly around them, keeping her gaze locked on him. That drew out a smug smirk, but he continued looking straight ahead. He gave a curt nod to Leliana who had looked up from her drawing to take in the two of them sitting across from her as Josephine drawled on. 

Evelyn turned her gaze from Cullen in enough time to catch Leliana’s brow furrow, then break into a smirk of her own as she returned to her missives.

“And of course, there’s the subject of seating arrangements,” Josephine continued, possibly having taken a breath in the last five minutes. “Since you _know_ Lord Jalen would never let us hear the end of it if he’s anywhere near Lady Morrow.”

For a few moments, Evelyn couldn’t discern what Cullen was attempting next. He dropped his shoulder and adjusted his elbow this way and that -- all subtle movements from anyone looking on, _above_ the war table at least. 

It wasn’t until he tweaked his wrist at just the right angle that his thumb found purchase to rub roughly against Evelyn’s clit even as his fingers squelched deeper and deeper inside. The moment his thumb applied enough pressure to flick her pearl roughly to the side, Evelyn’s fist slammed down on the table. 

Both women looked up at Evelyn. Beads of sweat gathered on her brow.

“Of course,” Evelyn huffed, head swimming and scrambling to grab onto some thought, any thought. “Lord Morrow will be nowhere near. Josephine, if I may -- I trust you to run tomorrow’s event completely.”

Cullen chose that moment, while she was talking, to scissor his fingers wide inside her, his forefinger crooking up to poke roughly against that sensitive button within. It took all she had to keep her eyes focused and _not_ roll back in heady ecstasy. 

Evelyn sat her elbow on the table -- probably too harshly -- and ran a shaky hand through her hair, inhaling sharply. It possibly could have been taken as a gesture of exasperation after a long day. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Josephine, Leliana, as much as I appreciate your counsel, I was wondering if Cullen and I could have the room. We have much to discuss.”

Josephine’s jaw dropped, speechless. Thankfully, Leliana was already rising to her feet, gathering up documents for the both of them. 

“Inquisitor, my apologies,” Josephine stammered. “We haven’t gotten to their room placement.”

Leliana smirked, “Come along, Josie.” She hooked an arm around her friend’s shoulder, as much in camaraderie as she was leading her out the door. “I’m happy to discuss with you in Herald’s Rest. We’ve blown past dinner, after all.”

“My apologies,” Josephine stammered over her shoulder. “Would the two of you like us to bring you something?”

Cullen’s insistent finger continued its flicking and rubbing. Evelyn had to grab the table for support, holding her breath to stifle a moan.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Leliana clucked her tongue as she pulled the heavy door closed behind her. “Cullen will make sure the Inquisitor gets her fill. Won’t you, Commander?”

“Thank you, Leliana,” Cullen said, without looking up at them. “Good evening, Josephine.”

“Thank you both,” Evelyn said breathlessly. 

The moment the door clicked shut, Cullen tucked his free hand under Evelyn’s arm and hoisted her onto the table, facing him. 

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Evelyn blushed. Cullen’s long, thick fingers now plunged slowly, so languidly inside her, tantalizing her all the way out, unhindered by awkward wrist angles.

“Nor were you,” he growled. His low register reverberated to her very core.

He withdrew his hand and popped his fingers into his mouth, tasting her. The sight was so dirty and arousing all at once, Evelyn moaned without consciously allowing it to escape her throat. 

“I’ve missed you, Evelyn,” he said. His eyes travelled down and up her form, then he urgently crushed his mouth against hers. She could taste herself on his tongue as it laved its way onto hers, caressing her warmly before Cullen pulled his head back once more.

Taking in the sight of her, he breathed, “Every moment you’re gone seems like an eternity, but it’s given my mind some time to… wander.”

“Oh?” she panted. “And what have you been thinking about?”

“I’d quite like to take you right here,” he said, his light-brown eyes searching hers. “With my Inquisitor’s permission.”

“Hmm,” she purred, pretending to consider it. “Do you promise to return all the map markers? Will you remember their placements?”

Cullen blinked slowly at her, smirk tugging at the corner of his scarred lip.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Evelyn said, leaning back to brace herself on her arms. “Then I grant you permission.”

“See, now,” Cullen said leaning in. He nuzzled his head into her neck to steal a trail of kisses. “In my imaginings, you needed a bit more bracing than that.”

He lifted her, scooting her ass far enough that the backs of her knees were hooked over one end of the table. With his calloused hand, he gently tipped Evelyn backwards, laying her across the table. He tickled his fingers up along her sides, grasping her gently by the wrists and hooking them on the other end of the oaken war table.

Her smalls still pooled around her ankles, Evelyn watched as Cullen unlaced his own breeches and brought himself out into his hand. Evelyn gulped, watching him glide roughly up and down his rock-hard length. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d coupled without being entirely disrobed. The urgency aflame in Cullen’s gaze electrified her need, shooting sparks over every inch of her skin. 

His eyes locked on hers as he mounted the table, hovering over her on all fours. His head dipped and met hers in a surprisingly tender kiss. It seemed the tease was to continue. 

Evelyn had other ideas. Without breaking their kiss, she snaked her hand down and grabbed a fistfull of his muscled ass, crushing his hips towards hers. He grunted at the unexpected thrust and fumbled with the head of his cock, urgently slipping it between her folds. 

“Spr--” he groaned, breath catching in his throat. “Spread your legs for me.” Evelyn did as she was told.

His velvety cock nudged deeper between her legs, and she instinctively arched her back, positioning her sex perfectly for the incoming friction. Her hands returned to clutch the table above her head as Cullen pushed into her, slowly and sensually spreading her, filling her completely.

Slowly, he entered, too slowly. He slid back out, shuddering as he went. 

“Maker, Cullen, faster,” Evelyn keened, tossing her head to the side. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

Cullen growled with a dark grin and jerked his hips forward, sliding along her wetness, then quickly back, snapping the crown of his cock on the way out. Held tightly in position on the table like she was, there was no give or bounce while he rammed into her, besides the undulating of her breasts under her tunic. A groan ripped from Evelyn’s throat as Cullen pistoned inside her, filling her to the hilt and then dragging his thick width back out.

Her mind went blank. Everything was focused on the slick, wet friction of Cullen’s grunted thrusts until she could barely stand the sensation. The need for release was coiling tighter and tighter like a spring within.

For a moment, Evelyn tried to hold off on the orgasm, forbid it to draw out this spectacular bliss -- the wanting, the precipice -- a moment more. 

“Fuck, Evie, I’m --” Cullen grunted, his eyes screwed shut as he bounced above her. “Come for me, I beg you.”

His raspy growl was what did her in. She tumbled into desire and release sprung forth, tingling from her loins and outward, radiating calm and relief to all corners of her body. She sighed his name as his pumping drew out another surprise spike of bliss before melting her limbs completely. 

Cullen’s eyes opened up, now able to take in her face without worry of finishing first. He moaned and dipped his head to look between their bodies, watching as his cock sheathed fully within her and snapped back out. After several quivering, urgent thrusts, he froze deep within her and dipped his head to the crook of her neck as she felt his warm seed coat her from within. 

A moment passed. Two. Evelyn squeezed her walls tight around his over-sensitive cock, and he shuddered audibly, nipping at her neck by way of punishment for her sweet torture. 

He rested his head on the hard war table next to her, still hovering his heavy body above her frame.

“I missed you, Evelyn,” he said softly. He drew his head up and kissed her again, soft and deep.

“Don’t reward me like _this_ for spending time away from you,” she warned. “I might schedule more trips to the Western Approach.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes with a mischievous smirk. “You don’t think poor Josie will be scandalized if you keep pounding your fist on the war table like that at every meeting?”

He slid his hips back, and Evelyn was suddenly empty of him and fully sated all at once. 

A bit wobbly on his feet, Cullen found his footing and tucked himself back in his breeches.

“All right, then,” she agreed. “For Josie’s sake, you are hereby ordered to my chambers directly after I return home from future trips.”

Cullen dipped his head, mischievous smirk never leaving his face. “As you command, Inquisitor.”


End file.
